


Deadly (BTS, GOT7, Supernatural)

by spaceecadet



Category: GOT7, Supernatural, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Ok bye, also some got7 m8s?, but its gonna be trash either way, hang on wait im back, i dont know what this'll evolve into???, im bloated and alone, im only on s7 of spn right now so this is probs outdated oops, k bye, namjin is like a married couple, should i do got7 ships, the gayness is real, this is a one way conversation, yoonseok;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-12-18 21:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11882949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceecadet/pseuds/spaceecadet
Summary: The Seven Deadly Sins: wrath, greed, sloth, glutton, lust, pride, and envy. They've been around since the beginning of time, almost as old as the Devil himself. Of course, living down under with Lucifer for thousands of years isn't the easiest thing in the world, and the Sins have had enough. What will they do when they meet Castiel, an angel, who tries to help them out of their predicament?





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my first story on ao3 so it probably wont get very far but here it is. its my brain dump, so crap from 4am will definitely be in here. please suggest! i dont know what this will evolve into, everything's an empty void as of now. 사랑해!

The mall was quiet. Few people walked outside, and not many voices could be heard throughout the small cluster of buildings. 

But Glutton's favorite ice cream shop was open, so he decided to stop by.

"Welcome to Frost!" The worker addressed him with a grin and gestured to the many ice cream options below her. "What can I do for you today?"

The man glanced down at his stomach. He had maintained an excellent physique for—what was it now?—654 years, and he wasn't going to give it up then. "Small grapefruit sorbet," he replied to the girl, giving her his signature killer smile and noticing as her knees went weak. He smiled and watched her prepare his order, aware of the flabby man entering the store behind him.

The girl making Glutton's order rang a small bell, and another girl appeared from the back room, smiling tightly at the man. "Hello, welcome to Frost. What is it that I can make for you?" She spoke with a French lilt to her voice, and Glutton felt suspicious of her almost instantly.

A voice interrupted his thinking. "Here you are, sir. Three dollars and twenty-nine cents." He smiled and gave the girl the change, hearing the fat man order a rainbow cookie dough custard explosion and shaking his head ever so slightly. Whatever. The poor man was going to have a heart attack in—Glutton checked his watch—about five minutes anyways. Live life to the fullest, he thought, shrugging.

He sat down at a table nearby and watched as the guy received his order and left the store. Waiting a little so as not to arise suspicion, he quietly left the store after his victim.

Glutton turned down a small street, watching as the man sat down at a bench and dug into his custard hungrily, and cringing when it ran down his chin sloppily. One minute left.

He could see the heart attack starting. The man gripped his chest and groaned, placing his treat beside him on the bench and keeling over. Thirty seconds.

More moaning and groaning. It was really starting to hurt Glutton's ears. The fat man writhed on the ground as his heart gave out slowly, and Glutton tapped his foot impatiently.

Finally, the man lay still. Glutton rubbed his sore ears and knelt to touch the man and let his spirit rest, sighing as he did so. "Ah, my poor friend. Try the grapefruit sorbet next time—600 calories less and just as delicious."

Pulling out a notebook from his small bag, Glutton crossed out the final person on his waiting list for today and capped his black pen. He was tired, but there was a whole new round of people tomorrow. And he had to go—people were rounding the corner. He made sure the people couldn't see him yet, then he disappeared from view, back to Hell where he was stationed.

"Good day, Glutton! Did you bring me anything?" Envy cheered childishly at the sight of his hyung.

Glutton couldn't help but laugh. "Apologies, my friend. I didn't think you'd like the rainbow cookie dough custard explosion the man I snagged today was scarfing down." Envy pouted, which only caused the laughter to continue.

Sloth soon appeared in the corner of the room, clutching a small Beanie Baby and packing away his notebook. "Oh. Hello, Glutton. Hi, Envy." Envy grinned and nodded back, and Glutton asked, "You stole a Beanie Baby?"

Sloth immediately grew defensive. "Hey! This model hasn't been made since 1999," he stated, holding up the raggedy thing and making way to his room to place it in his growing collection.

Envy furrowed his eyebrows when he realized he wanted that Beanie Baby and was jealous of Sloth for owning it. Oh, well. It's Sloth's—no touching! he reminded himself, pinching his arm.

The mint-haired man reappeared from his room with Pride dragging behind him. "My Beanie Babies are not yours to touch, Pride, no matter how perfect you may think yourself. Understood?" Pride nodded and rolled his eyes, wrenching himself from Sloth's grip and running towards Glutton. "Hyung! Save me from him!" he yelled, burying his face into Glutton's chest. Glutton shook his head at Sloth, who looked dumbfounded that his hyung was actually agreeing with Pride.

Where was his backup? But really, where were Lust, Wrath, and Greed when he needed them? Besides, when would they be interrogated about today?

A familiar zapping sound answered the latter question.

"Hi, guys!" Lucifer had materialized at the doorway with a notepad in hand. "Did you all get everyone on your lists today?"

As you can imagine, the Sins didn't throw around the term "speak of the devil" lightly.

"Good Lord," he said, cringing as the name was spoke. "Where are your brothers?" He snapped his fingers, and Wrath, Greed and Lust appeared. "Yah! Hyung, come—" Lust immediately stopped speaking when he saw the Devil staring at him. He quickly bowed and addressed him. "Hello, Lucifer-sshi. What can I do for you today?" he asked nervously.

"Well, for starters, you're late," Lucifer said exasperatedly, looking at his watch. He eyed the other two Sins—Wrath with his hair rumpled from fighting, and Greed with an opened notebook and a pen. "Apologies, Lucifer-sshi," the three said in unison, bowing once more. The Devil brusquely nodded.

"All right. Everyone's lists are completed, yes? Even yours, Wrath?" The young man smiled tightly and nodded, cracking his knuckles in his pockets. Glutton noticed his obvious discomfort at being called out, and hoped his temper wouldn't flare up.

"Good. Everyone on the lists is in their respectable afterlife destination?" The Sins nodded. "Yes, Lucifer-sshi." Finally, the Devil sighed.

"Okay. I'm done listening to your weird Korean crap. Young? She? Whatever it is, I've had enough. See you tomorrow, unfortunately," he spat, disappearing in the center of the room. Envy sighed and paced.

"What's wrong, Kook?" Lust asked gently. "I know he can be a total asshole sometimes, but we've got to do our job."

"I know, ChimChim, but we're stuck here forever!" Envy answered his hyung using the nickname. "This is all we do, for eternity! Just kill people off and listen to him while he rattles off bullcrap!"

"Listen to yourself," Greed said. "You're getting overexcited about everything. Don't worry about this tonight, you will be okay. We'll talk tomorrow, all right?"

Envy's pacing increased in speed. "No, Namjoon! You say that every damn time I bring this up! I don't want to friggin' work for that asshole for the rest of eternity! I'd rather work for angels!"

At that, the six older Sins' expressions turned from concerned to terrified. Wrath quickly covered Envy's mouth, skimming his eyes over the vents for demons on watch inside.

"Kook! Be careful, someone could have been listening! Someone could be listening now!" Lust said, placing a hand on Envy's shoulder. Envy shook him off and bit his lip.

Of course he was jealous of the angels. They had everything he wanted. Peace, love, a home where they weren't under supervision 24/7—it was all he dreamed of. In Hell, the demons were assholes, you could hear screams echoing around you no matter where you were, and the big kahuna was no ray of sunshine himself. All Envy wanted—well, at this moment, anyways—was for he and his hyungs to be happy.

But that wasn't happening anytime soon, he thought as his feet pounded the ground. He threw Lust's small hand off his shoulder and stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him.

His friends had argued over Envy's moodiness for about fifty years now. The boy had hated being Envy, and he cried whenever he had to kill someone off whose enviousness overpowered them. It was a hard job, they admitted, but Jungkook had been such an emotionless boy for his entire life. Of course, the recent years had been different.

Pride ran after Jungkook, and the other five nodded to each other and retired to their rooms. It was a conversation for another day; the Seven were tired, and Envy's behavior hadn't reduced their caffeine intake.

But, restless sleep aside, they had jobs to do. Obviously, those were the furthest things from their minds at that point.


	2. two

The Impala rolled into Oxford, Ohio at about eleven at night. Dean Winchester shook his brother awake from the driver's side of the old car.

"Rise and shine, Sammy! We're officially in... Brickville!" he exclaimed, taking in every building on High Street, which were almost all built from the same red brick used on the university dorms and halls.

Sam Winchester groggily sat up from his spot in the passenger side. "O-oh. Yeah, it's pretty brick-y." He opened the door with a grunt and slid out onto the concrete below. "Five days' drive. Yeah, that's nothing." 

Not a week before, the two had been in El Paso, Texas, working a case with a pissed desperado. But here they were, in this tiny college town, about to put a murdered boy in the dorms to rest. Their schedule had been completely packed lately; most of the cases in their queue were down in the Deep South, so this trip was a huge inconvenience. Unfortunately, Sam thought they should just get it over with, and a quick rock-paper-scissors sent them packing.

"I know. God, Sammy, why did you even..." Dean sighed and cracked his neck, locking his baby and patting her hood. His brother looked at a map of the campus, and quickly pinpointed Hahne Hall, where three boys had been murdered in the last week.

"Okay," he started. "Let's ask a few questions, then we'll head over there and see what we can see, okay Dean?"

Dean nodded, and the two started into the police station, FBI badges at the ready.

The clerk looked up from her desk and greeted them. "Hello, what can I do for you?" she asked, pushing her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose.

The brothers pulled out their badges. "Agent Angus and Agent Young, FBI. Can we see the bodies of Jackson Byrd, Daniel Mullally and Gunnar von Bergen, all murdered in the last week?" The clerk sighed at their question and got up from her chair.

"Of course. Terrible tragedies, those have been," she remarked with another sigh. She pushed open a door behind her desk and held it for the boys. "Daniel was a friend of my son's. I've, since, had him moved out of Hahne, but it's just been absolutely horrible for everyone who was close to them."

Sam smiled sadly at her comment. "I can imagine."

The clerk closed the door behind them as the two walked into the morgue. Bright lights shone down on the grey room, and the coroner got up from his chair to address them. "Hello, boys. And you are?" he asked politely, eyeing the t-shirts and jeans Sam and Dean wore. They quickly got out their badges, and the coroner nodded and pulled out the three bodies he knew they were there to see.

Jackson's ginger head caught Dean's eye immediately, and he noticed the bloody hole straight through Jackson's liver. He leaned closer to inspect the hole, the smell leaving him unfazed.

"Yeah, the holes are definitely questionable. Each liver was incredibly damaged from excessive alcohol consumption. I honestly don't know what's going on, but the police say it's probably some killer with a fetish. I wonder why Oxford, though, of all places?" the coroner rambled, shaking his head. Dean nodded distractedly and continued examining Jackson's body. Sam was focused on Gunnar's corpse, the hole in the same exact spot as the other victims. He took a picture and sent it to Sam for further investigation.

"Okay, thanks. We'll be back to follow up," Sam told the coroner, and he and his brother exited through the door they came through. They nodded at the clerk and left the building, heading towards the Impala.

"That's really weird... I've never seen anything like that before," Dean remarked, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah..." Sam feigned confusion as he said the word. But really, he knew what it could be.

When he was soulless, all those years ago, he and Samuel, his grandfather, fought a creature much like this; he remembered the hole through the damaged liver. The parents of all the kids had said they were saints, and had vowed never to touch a drop. Unfortunately, this was one of the few memories he had that were muddled.

"Sam."

His brother turned to him. "What?" he answered Dean.

"You know something."

Honestly. Sometimes, Dean could be a friggin' psychic.

"No I don't."

Dean buried his face in his hands. "Dammit, Sammy, why do you still lie to me?" he asked frustratedly. "God, we've been hunting for so long together, and you still keep secrets!"

Sam's eyebrows knitted together in nervousness. "Dean, I—"

"No! Don't talk to me, dammit. All you do is friggin' lie to me! Even on the little things like this! Come on, Sam, can you just be honest with me for one. Friggin'. Moment?!" he yelled as he ran his fingers through his hair and kicked the ground. Sam immediately tried to speak again, but Dean's hand moved up to stop him as he unlocked the car and swung himself inside. Sam sighed and looked down to tie his shoe, holding his phone between his teeth as he deftly moved the laces. Once he was done, he hopped into the car and slammed the door shut, hearing the engine turn over.

"Hey, was he there before?" His brother spoke in a completely different voice. Sometimes, Dean could be bipolar. Sam guessed this was just one of those days.

Dean's slender finger pointed to an Asian man in a black suit, leaning against the wall of the police station and writing in a notebook. He had a long face, plum-colored hair, and eyes the color of dark chocolate. He looked up to notice Dean pointing and raised an eyebrow. Dean immediately lowered his hand, and the man looked back down to his book. 

Something was definitely off.

Sam tried to remember if the man had really been there before, when Dean was having his fit. Having no recollection of the strange guy, Sam reasoned he had just come from the police station. It would make sense, right? He had a suit on, but it wasn't FBI standard. His mind still not satisfied, Sam looked away from the man and tried to get him off his mind as Baby pulled away from the station and headed down Patterson Street.

 

Wrath watched them drive away and smiled, secretly glad his favorite guy on his list had calmed down quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is so s h o r t, i just have loads of homework that i'm putting off until the last minute. will update soon.


	3. three

Never had Dean been so exhausted.

Three pies, thirteen hours and countless headaches later, he asked Sam from across the table, "Got anything?" He tried not to collapse to the ground.

"Jack with a side of squat," his brother answered. "You?"

It made Dean proud to see that his brother was as exhausted as he was. Usually, he slept long before Sam's eyelids drooped, but he grinned at the thought that this day was different. The problem they had sacrificed a night of good, solid sleep to solve was which building the spirit would ravage next. Three other dormitories had murdered tenants now, and the two couldn't find any pattern to connect them.

They had already visited all of Jack's relatives and friends, trying to find anything that might have belonged to the deceased. That search proving fruitless, Sam and Dean had also found out that Jack had been cremated. Just the icing on the cake, Dean guessed.

"Nothing over here. I need food," Dean said, shakily rising from his seat and grabbing his keys. "We'll work on this later, yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam replied with a grin. Dean was never this chipper in the morning; it usually took a bit of screaming to get him up. Even after not sleeping for more than 24 hours, his brother found it in him to go out and get food. This was the Dean he knew.

Dean stood up from his seat, his knees almost buckling. "Son of a—" he spat as he grabbed onto the table for support. He heard Sam chuckling behind him, and he scowled. "Piss off."

He opened the door to the hotel and wearily wandered out, his brother not far behind. He heard Sam slam the door behind them; that was his cue to start walking towards the Impala.

"What are you feeling, Sammy? Eggs? Pancakes?" he asked. When Sam didn't answer right away, Dean looked back at the tall man. "Sam?"

"Look."

"What? Where?"

Sam pointed in the direction of the gas station across the street, but Dean didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

"Dammit Sam, that's not helping." Dean squinted his eyes and tried to see what Sam was so shaken up by.

"Right there, under the E-Z Mart sign."

A plum head of hair came into view.

Dean knew he had seen it before, but he couldn't pinpoint where, or when. "What's so special about him?" he asked Sam, whose eyebrows were knitted together in confusion. "Hey. Sammy? You okay?"

"Uh, yeah, but wasn't that the guy we saw at the police station? With the notebook and everything…"

"Yeah, it's a small town. People are around." Dean shrugged and brushed it off, hopping in his car. Sam stared at him for a little while longer, then followed suit. The engine turned over, and the two brothers left the parking lot in search of food.

The closest restaurant was a small mom-and-pop place called Patterson's, packed with elderly people and smelling like soap and tomato soup. "Aw, man, Sam," Dean sighed. "C'mom, this place smells like old people."

Sam shrugged and exited the old car. "Dean, you have to stay healthy to be a hunter."

The doors swung open with a swoosh as the two tall men stepped into the building. A young waiter with black hair greeted them, and Dean eyed him as he led them to a table and sat them down.

"I'm Jungkook, I'll be taking care of you today," he said, and left in the direction of the kitchen.

"Something about him..." Dean said, in a reverie.

"Dean, now is not the time," Sam snapped to his brother.

"No. That's not it... I feel like I've seen him before."

"Maybe you've slept with him already," Sam quipped, and Dean flipped him off, earning disgusted stares from the elderly people surrounding him.

"Never mind then."

Sam whipped out his computer and began researching even more, and Dean stared at a small spider crawling up the ceiling, trying to figure out who Jungkook was, and where he had seen him before.

•

Heaven was in complete disarray.

Castiel wandered around his autistic man's heaven, hearing the grass crinkle beneath his feet and staring at the rainbow kite that flew high in the blue sky above him.

He knew that a Sin was close by to Dean. They shared a "profound bond," as even the angel himself put it. He knew who the Sin was. He just didn't know who was the Sin.

His bet was on the handsome young waiter who sat the two down at a small café in an Ohio town. But, if he was correct, Envy would know who he was instantly, and that would be the end of old Castiel.

Castiel pondered what to do, watching the autistic man's face light up when his kite caught some air. He could do a kamikaze kind of thing, sacrificing himself so Dean and Sam could kill Envy. He'd be a hero, maybe dead, but never forgotten.

Or he could just wait till they left, and follow them to the hotel.

He went with Plan B.

He noticed Sam and Dean get up from their seats and leave the building, getting back in their car, and finally driving back towards the hotel they stayed at. Castiel decided to jump there, waiting for them at their room door.

"Oh." Dean looked surprised to see his angel friend. "Hi, Cas. What's up?"

"Hello, Dean." Castiel's gravelly voice rang through the hallway. "There's a... situation... that I thought you might want to know about."

Dean cocked his head. "Okay... Come in." He held the door open for Castiel, who blushed and walked inside.

He had had a crush on Dean for some time now. Of course, Dean didn't know that, and the angel doubted he liked him back. There was no sure way to tell, but Cas felt the butterflies in his stomach grow more every day.

"Okay, Cas." Dean slumped on the couch while Sam gingerly took a seat on the side of the bed. "What now? What's going on upstairs?"

Cas sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"No, it's what's going on... down here. Look, you just had a very close encounter with one of the Seven Deadly Sins."

Sam's eyes widened. "Who?"

Dean looked back at him, an exasperated look on his face. "You've been a nerd for 30-some years now, and you don't friggin' know who the Seven Deadly Sins are."

"No, Dean, I know. I'm just surprised we haven't encountered them yet, given we've fought every period monster period ever period. I never thought about that." Sam waved a hand for Castiel to continue.

"Anyways, I've been wondering why they're here. Of course, everyone in Hell knows how disorganized Heaven is right now, but I'm sure they want something, most demons do." Cas sighed.

"Okay, well, I'll go get the knife and bash the bastard's head in," Dean loudly replied, getting up to get his knife. But a shy wave of Cas's hand sent him back to his seat. Cas mentally high-fived himself for that.

"No, Dean. You don't know which one it is, what powers he has... hell, you don't know what vessel he's possessing. In fact, there are two, one you ran into earlier this week. But I'll tell you."

Dean stared at his angel intently, waiting for him to continue.

"Wrath is the Sin you saw at the police station. I could immediately tell by the black suit. Envy is the youngest of the Sins, so I'm expecting him to be possessing that young Asian waiter who took you to a table at the restaurant you ate at today. I'm not sure, though—he wasn't wearing a suit."

Dean pumped a fist in the air. "Aha! That was where I knew them from."

Sam looked at his older brother, puzzled. "But we've never seen them before."

"Oh, yes I have! I remember the, from Hell. You don't because they never came into Lucifer's cage!" He grinned, then cringed, satisfied that he remembered the memory, but feeling agonizing pain alongside. 

"Okay, but the thing is... you can't kill a Sin."

Both brothers' eyes widened at that. "What?"

"Even if the demon Envy, or the demon Wrath, dies, the emotion doesn't. They'll just find another demon to take his place," the angel explained, and a look of understanding came across Sam's face.

"Oh. Well, what does he want?"

Castiel shrugged. "I don't know. But if you have it, you should probably give it to him."

"No," Dean said loudly. "There's gotta be a way, right, Cas?"

"As I said, Dean," his angel replied, exasperated, "you can't kill... Envy. Or Wrath. If you kill the demon, another will take over and come back for what he wants. And if you kill that one, again, and again, and again."

The brothers sighed in unison. "Fine," Sam reluctantly spoke up. "We'll see what they have to say." He got up from the bed and started pacing, which was Castiel's cue to also get up from his seat.

"Okay, then. Good luck, Sam and Dean," he said, and the angel was gone with a flutter of wings.

 

None of the three noticed the handsome man in a waiter's outfit, or the equally pretty man in the black suit, watching from the grimy window of the motel parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEET that took a while. it's kinda a filler chapter bc school be like kms but anyways bye


	4. four

"That freaking hurts, Kindness."

Liberality grimaced as the angel carved the symbol into his bones. Kindness had told him that it was an Enochian ward, designed to keep angels away, so Liberality warily accepted the offer, knowing it would keep thousands who came to him in their own personal bubbles.

Of course, he didn't despise his fellow angels. That would be absurd; all they wanted to do was help. But sometimes, even they got in the way, and Liberality knew that he and his brothers always had to put their jobs first. Even so, was the pain really necessary?

Kindness yanked his hand out, and Liberality winced. "Done. Have fun being free, my brother." His strawberry blond hair fell in front of his face, and Liberality smiled watching him push it away, enjoying the happiness.

"Are you thinking about dyeing your hair again?" he asked, taking a pinch of his own silvery locks in a slender hand and eyeing his brother, curious.

"Maybe, soon. You know the only reason we dye our hair is so the...less bright angels can tell us apart." His brother laughed.

"Yes," Liberality replied, "you do have a fair point." He let out a chuckle himself.

Unfortunately, his angel radio tuned in, and he knew that the moment was over and it was time for a job.

"Okay. I'll be right back; I hear a job calling."

"All right. Be safe, brother!" Kindness called out to his departing brother, and Liberality waved back at him.

A flutter of wings, and he was on his way. This job took place in Belarus, where a monk was starving himself for the sole purpose of not taking food from his community. His body was thin and frail, like an old woman on the last leg of her life, and his face was sallow, with his eyes sunken in like craters on the moon. He looked sad, haggard yet... wise, just sitting on a slab of stone in the beautiful temple, staring at the floor, doing nothing.

When he started doing these jobs, Liberality used to cry. He couldn't take all these people, who were just trying to help, just trying to be good... but too good. It pained him to have to touch the barely beating hearts of these people, to put them to rest just because they wanted to please God, please Zeus, please whoever they prayed to.

"Oh, my poor, poor Andriy," the angel murmured, running a hand across the dying monk's cheek. "I am so, so sorry it had to end this way. Please forgive me."

Andriy tried to reach up to Liberality, tried to touch him. "God? Are you God?"

Liberality couldn't help but give a small smile. "No, my son. I am Liberality. You will have a good place in heaven, yes. Yes, you will. Your heaven...ah, let's see..." The angel discreetly tapped into Andriy's dimming mind as he slowly put the monk to rest.

"In your heaven, your sister, little Alesia, will be running around a big field, covered with lush green grass. You will be young again, flying a kite and laughing, and she will be alive again, cured of her cancer and as well as ever. Your mother, Olga—ah, there she is, coming out the door now. And look! She has some kletski ready for her hungry children, on that steaming plate she holds. It's you and your sister's favorite, pork! Olga marvels at her beautiful children, happy, happy that she is happy, happy she has a family, and happy—"—Liberality's voice broke—"—happy that she is free."

He looked down at the monk, who was long gone by now, no doubt enjoying that heaven of kites and dumplings, and stared at his face. Which was once so stressed, so wrinkled and thin from not having eaten for weeks, was now peaceful as the soul left the body. The kind blue eyes stared at nothing. With a sigh, the angel closed them slowly, one by one, and got up to leave.

Before he took off, he took in the beautiful temple around him, in which Andriy had worshipped, eight times a day. The stained glass on the walls created rainbows around him, and he bathed in the multicolored light, noticing the beautiful patterns that made them. 

"If only everyone had this light somewhere," he said to himself, before he was gone once again, in a soft flutter of wings.

He returned to Heaven slightly distraught, but smiling slightly when he passed Andriy's new heaven.

"Oh, hello, Diligence," he called to his brother, who was passing by.

"Hello, brother!" The green haired man yelled back. Liberality could sense he was in good spirits, which lifted his a little.

He arrived home, to the room his angels shared. It was all white, with no beds. "Sleep is for the weak," Diligence had told them, and they had agreed wholeheartedly. Jobs before sleep, always. There were bookshelves in a corner, but Patience was really the only one who used it. His literature from all over the world took up nearly half of the available space.

He had urged Liberality to read a book called Hamlet, that really seemed quite boring. "Read it! It's very good!" he had said. The author was a thing called a Shakespeare, and Liberality didn't really want to know its definition. But, he didn't want to hurt the feelings of his eldest friend, so he read it. The pages seemed interminable, and the angel swore he would never pick up a shake spear? Shakespeare? again.

"Hello," Liberality called, flopping into a chair and pulling out his notebook and quill. He flipped to Andriy's name, at the very back of the book, and sadly drew a mark through it.

"Hello!" Chastity called from the other room. He walked through and grinned at his friend. "Got everyone today?" he asked, his smile fading a little bit.

"Yeah," Liberality answered, sadness eating him up and making him lean back. "Yeah, I did."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO FINALLY UPDATED after like a month sorry bois  
> add me on wattpad i have a grand total of 2 followers! @spaceecadet

**Author's Note:**

> is it moving too fast? probably lmao k bye


End file.
